


When the Truth Hunts You Down

by foramomentonly



Series: When the Truth Hunts You Down [1]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst-ish?, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23318011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foramomentonly/pseuds/foramomentonly
Summary: In which Mama DeLuca sees right through Michael. Inspired by this post by @space-malex.
Relationships: Maria DeLuca/Michael Guerin, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: When the Truth Hunts You Down [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676887
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

“He’s not for you.”

Maria stops short, in the middle of some comment about the weather, then shakes her head, sliding her hand across the small table to cover her mother’s in a soothing gesture. It’s Sunday morning and Maria sits across from Mimi in her room at the assisted living facility, three carry out cups of coffee and a bag of Arturo’s freshly-baked churros on the table beside them. Michael hovers awkwardly behind her. He’s not certain where he fits in the small, bright space clearly designed for a single occupant and their singular guest. Maria insisted on introducing Michael to her mother during one of her frequent visits, and so far it’s about as big a disaster as Michael promised her it would be.

“It’s okay, Mama, he’s with me,” Maria soothes, patting Michael’s hand where it rests on her shoulder.

“He’s not for _you_ ,” Mimi repeats, this time with an urgency that makes Maria lean subtly away from her, taken aback at her mother’s insistent tone.

Michael rolls his eyes and shifts uncomfortably, kicking at the floor with the heel of his boot and feeling a vindictive sense of satisfaction when the heavy thump startles both women. He’s used to the skepticism, the exaggerated whispers in kitchens and hallways and front doorsteps. He’s used to being deemed undesirable company, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still sting.

“What do you mean?” Maria asks.

“He’s not yours, baby,” Mimi says more gently, and Michael’s head shoots up. “He doesn’t belong to you.”

“Mama, this is my boyfriend, Michael,” Maria explains slowly, as though Mimi might have simply misunderstood Maria’s intentions in bringing a handsome cowboy sporting fresh flannel and a clean shave to her table.

Michael clears his throat.

“Uh, good to meet you,” he mumbles.

Mimi ignores them both, searching the air around Michael as though counting dust particles in a stream of light.

“Whose…” she whispers, then inhales sharply, her eyes narrowing. “I see.”

Michael looks towards Maria, whose brow is furrowed in frustration. He can still feel Mimi’s stare and looks up, unnerved by the intensity of her gaze when he meets it, but unable to look away. It feels eerily like the few times Isobel has turned her powers on him.

“I’d tell you not to hurt him, but you’ve done that already, haven’t you?” Mimi asks him, and Michael feels a rush of shame. “And now you’re going to hurt _her_.”

“Who, Mama?” Maria asks, voice a desperate plea. “Who do you think Michael belong to?”

“You know, sweetheart,” Mimi says gently, steadily, releasing Michael and turning her gaze towards her daughter, clear eyes full of empathy. “You already know.”

Maria inhales a shaky breath and sets her shoulders.

“No, I don’t. I don’t know,” she says firmly. “This is my boyfriend, Michael, and I wanted you to meet him because he makes me so, so happy.”

Michael turns his head, hating the way Maria sounds like she’s reciting a well-practiced mantra she doesn’t quite believe. Mimi sits back, her face slipping into a cheerful mask, the storm of lucid emotion passing in an instant.

“That’s wonderful, honey,” she says, smiling indulgently. "You’re never too young to fall madly in love. I’d say let’s toast with a drink, but you’re in high school, so that will have to wait a few years.“

Maria sighs, but she seems almost relieved that for now her mother’s clarity—and with it her clairvoyance—has faded.

“How about coffee?” Maria asks, pushing one of the cups toward Mimi. She passes the second to Michael but doesn’t meet his gaze as their fingers brush.

Mimi smiles brightly. "That’ll work.“


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted this section to include a Maria/Liz heart-to-heart. But it just wasn’t working and I didn’t feel I was doing justice to the glory that is Maria DeLuca. So I’m posting this as is. I hope it works!

Maria sits stone-faced in her car, still in the Sunset Mesa parking lot with Michael beside her in the passenger seat, head bowed. He’s giving her space, but she wonders what it means that he isn’t desperate to comfort her, to deny what her mother intuited after five minutes in a room with him. She tries to push the thought away, visualizes it escaping through the ends of her hair like smoke and floating off toward the clouds. Mimi taught her that trick when she was nine and still internalizing the vitriol tossed like grenades at her, her family, and their friends in this smallest of small towns.

“She’s wrong, right?” Maria blurts, and Michael turns slowly to face her. “I risked my relationship with one of my best friends. I made allowances for you. I have been so fucking open with you and—” she cuts herself off, takes a deep breath to steady herself. “If I did all that and I don’t even really _have_ you—”

“You do,” Michael interrupts, taking her hands and fixing her with wide eyes and a slightly wild stare. “I wanna be yours.”

Maria studies him. Michael’s a hard read, always has been; to say he feels strongly is an understatement, but he’s also an empath, feeding off the emotions of those closest to him. Maria sometimes can’t separate Michael’s core truths from what he’s internalized from others. She senses sincerity and affection and a little bit of fear that settles heavy in her stomach. Michael’s expression is earnest and he holds her hands in his gently, despite the intensity of his gaze. But she also hopes Michael feels this way about her, about the possibility of losing her, and she doesn’t miss that Michael says he _wants_ to be hers rather than he _is_ hers.

“I need a little time,” she says finally, and Michael deflates, shifting back towards the door. Maria catches his face in her hands and holds his gaze.

“Hey,” she says softly, “I’m not saying what I’m not saying.”

Michael rolls his eyes, but doesn’t look away. Maria smiles at his petulance and pulls him a little closer over the gear shift, pressing a warm, reassuring kiss to his lips.

“I’ll drop you off at the Airstream and call you tomorrow,” she says.

Michael pulls away slowly, letting her fingers brush softly across his cheekbones before settling back into his seat.

“No, take me to Isobel’s,” he says, “I told her I’d stop by while I’m in town.”

Maria buckles in and starts the ignition, lifting an eyebrow at Michael until he scoffs and pulls on his seatbelt.

“That’ll work.”


End file.
